


Open All Night

by youreyesonlarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender Harry, Bottom Louis, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, Harry makes wood carvings, Louis Tomlinson Has a Small Cock, Louis Tomlinson in Panties, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Top Harry, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youreyesonlarry/pseuds/youreyesonlarry
Summary: It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.---Harry's a bartender, Louis' got a nice ass and a shit taste in men. They make it work.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 39
Kudos: 412





	Open All Night

**Author's Note:**

> I am once again serving a very self indulgent au and slapping a hall & oates title dsjdsdjs. This one took a little longer than I planned, but she's finally here! Hope you queens enjoy it and don't forget to leave some kudos and a comment :)
> 
> Special thanks to Sam for being a lovely beta and for all my queens for hyping me up and giving me some ideas for this! Happy readings!

It’s six in the morning when Harry finally makes it back home.

A sigh of relief slips past his lips as he _fucking finally_ closes the door behind him, throwing his car keys halfheartedly on top of the table beside the door, without baring them much of a glance. The exhaustion settles in his bones as he lazily slides his shoes off with his feet, and even if he’s about to fall asleep on the spot, he still picks them up and places them on their respective place by the door with his other shoes.

There’s sweat collecting behind his neck and he feels it without having to touch it, even with his hair tied up in a shit excuse of a bun. He brings his hand up to feel how bad it is, frowning at the dampness on his fingers. There’s a horrible stench of sweat mixed with cigarettes and alcohol attached to his clothes, and by now, it’s next to impossible to pretend it’s not there. It’s been bothering him the second he stepped inside his car, and he hardly lasted a minute without cranking the window open to help drown it out. 

Not wanting to deal with it anymore, Harry pulls his t-shirt off over his head as he walks over to his kitchen for a glass of water, and for some goddamn reason, instincts perhaps, he brings it up to his nose and takes a whiff off of it. 

As soon as his nose reaches the fabric, his face scrunches up in disgust, and it takes everything to resist the urge to hurl all over his kitchen floor. It’s hard to keep it down, but the painful memories of the amount of vomit he’d cleaned up at the bar are good enough motivation to swallow the gag and save himself the burden. He’d already cleaned up enough vomit to last a lifetime, ninety five percent not even belonging to him, and the last thing he needed right now was to be the one making a mess and inevitably cleaning up. He doesn’t even have Niall here to bribe into taking up cleaning duty for him, which counts as another reason why Harry shouldn’t heave all over the floor. 

You’d think you become immune to this when you’ve been working at a bar for that long, but apparently not. 

Point is, he stinks, and even though he’s been dying to get some sleep, he refuses to go to bed like this. He’s tired, really fucking tired, but he could really go for a shower right now. He certainly needs one when his hair smells like shit and his body feels way too clammy for his liking.

With that in mind, Harry swallows down his water in one go and shoves his dirty clothes into the washing machine before walking stark naked into his bathroom. He’s glad he moved into his own flat a while ago; having roommates really constricted how naked he could be at home, which more times than not resulted in awkward walk ins and mildly uncomfortable texts about him “ _keeping the horse in the stable”_. 

The compliment, or ego-boost, didn’t last that long when his ex-roommates couldn’t look at him for two days straight, but still. 

Anyways, he opens the bathroom door in front of his bedroom and, despite having driven home with the sun coming up, he still squints when he turns the lights on. The lights are bright above him, and it takes a second for his eyes to adjust. When he manages to open them properly, he glances at his appearance in the mirror and he’s not that surprised to see he looks just as bad as he feels. 

There’s dark circles under his eyes and he looks like he’s gone through hell and back, which isn’t far from the truth at all. He’s got a short stubble going on, partly laziness and partly because he forgot to buy a new razor, since he accidentally broke his old one. Niall says he looks good, but Niall’s taste can be quite questionable sometimes, so he’s not sure how he feels about it.

He’ll leave it, at least for now. 

Harry untangles his bun, letting his long curls fall over his shoulders in a clump of tangles and messy stray hairs. It’s clear it needs a wash, and it probably wouldn’t be this bad if he’d washed it yesterday, if he hadn’t been in a rush to get to work. 

All in all, he’s had better days, and that’s the understatement of the day. He’s certain all he needs is a proper shower and a decent amount of sleep to get right back on track and look less like a zombie and more like a human being, at least he hopes. 

He turns the shower on, holding his hand out under the showerhead to check the temperature and stepping inside once the water is warm enough. He stands under the showerhead and lets the water run over him, washing away all the stress and exhaustion weighing him down all day long. It feels nice, the warm water on his body and the quietness of his flat, only filling up with the sound of the shower running and hitting the floor. 

He lets the water cascade down his body, not even thinking about how long he’s just been standing there, reveling in the warm water and the steam quickly building up in the bathroom. It could’ve been minutes, or maybe even hours since he stepped inside, but he doesn’t care that much. Not as he finally feels his broad shoulders relax and back muscles loosen up; he didn’t even realize how tense he really was. 

When he feels less stiff, he grabs some shampoo, pouring a generous amount on his hand before bringing them up to his hair and massages his scalp to really get the dirt out. It feels good, and he already feels so much better than when he first stepped into the shower.

He tips his head back and lets the water run through his hair. As he leaves the conditioner on, he grabs his body wash, pine scented, and lazily washes his body with his hands, not even bothering to grab his purple loofah. 

His eyes are closed as he lets his hands run down his chest, languidly scrubbing his skin to clean the dirt and sweat piled up away. 

He doesn’t even realize it as his hands lower to clean his dick, wrapping one hand on his girth and paying no mind as he sluggishly jerks his wrist, unconsciously following his usual shower routine. His mind, however, has drifted off elsewhere, jumping from thought to thought without any particular trail tying them together.

It takes a second to notice how his cock has started to harden. 

“Ah, fuck,” Harry groans under his breath.

He’s pretty tired, exhausted even, and doesn’t even know if he’s got the energy for a quick wank right now. He considers just willing it down, or turning the handle over to the colder side, but having a cold shower would wake him right up and the water feels so good on him, warm and steamed up, and the grip on his cock feels just as good, better even. He doesn’t even remember when the last time he had a wank was, since coming home late always leaves him too tired to do anything about his throbbing cock. 

Harry’s man enough to admit it doesn’t take him that long to reach a final decision. 

The hand on his cock tightens around his base, squeezing just right as he drags his fist along his thick girth. A grunts slips past his lips as his wrist builds up a pace, jerking faster and twisting around his cock head. 

His eyes are shut as he lets his mind wander around, groaning as his wrist speeds up when he thinks of the past fucks he’s had, the tight holes he’s buried himself into, the delicious wet heat clenching tightly on his dick as he thrusted deeper, relishing the sweet gasps and full-throated moans from his past partners. 

“ _Fuck_ …” He grunts.

As he works his cock, fastening his pace and sliding his thumb across his leaking slit, it becomes harder to stand on his two feet. He’s got no other option but to lean against the tile to prevent falling over and giving himself some serious damage.

He doesn’t even want to think about his mum’s reaction if he were to have an accident mid-wank. Then again, he doesn’t even want to think about his mum at all right now. 

The tile feels cold on his back, a contrast from how hot his body felt and the whole thing feels amazing. He lets his head tilt back as he pumps his girth, not even bothering to keep in any low grunts or gasps escaping his throat. He lives alone now, so he doesn’t have to restrain himself anymore, in case any of his roommates heard him. They’d overhear him enough whenever he’d bring twinks back home for the night. 

Idly, he thinks about how long it’s been since he slept with someone. Two months, three, maybe more. It definitely feels like more. He can hardly remember the one night stand, both of them were drunk and somehow ended up in Harry’s bed. He vaguely remembers the twink riding him and leaving the second they came, but it’s all a hazy mess in his head. Just another faded memory of a one night stand to add to the collection. 

_Man, I really need to get laid._

Harry’s thumb slides against his slit, jaw clenching as he feels more precum leaking from it. He’s close, he can feel it with the familiar heat starting up at the pit of his abdomen and he feels like his balls are about to explode. 

Another grunt fills the steamy bathroom as Harry twists his wrist on his hard girth just right. His knees weaken every time he jerks his straining cock, so fucking close to fully relieving himself. He can hardly feel the water spraying down his body, too focused on bringing himself closer as his hands swaps between moving quick and easy, to slow and tight around his thick cock. 

His hips jerk forward as his balls begin to tighten up and the heat beneath his abdomen becomes overpowering. Harry shuts his eyes tightly while jerking himself off and cupping his aching balls with a free hand, and suddenly, with a low moan shielded by the stream of the shower, he releases his seed all over his fist and watches through lidded eyes as his spunk goes down the drain. 

He gives his dick a few more pumps until he’s well and truly done, only then releasing his softening cock from his grip. He still takes a second to gather up enough energy to stand up straight again, since his legs feel unsteady to put his full weight on. 

His chest rises and falls as he comes down from his high, trying to catch his breath after the spontaneous spur of the moment orgasm. He feels more exhausted than before and now he’s convinced he’ll end up falling asleep if he doesn’t stand up properly and finish off his shower. 

With more effort than anticipated, Harry brings himself up to stand under the shower and washes off any remnants of conditioner and body wash left on his body. He’s sure there’s still some conditioner on his hair as he cuts the shower off, but he’s too tired at this point and honestly just wants to get to bed. 

He’ll deal with that in the morning, or afternoon, more like. 

He grabs a large towel from the rack and ties it around his waist. It hangs low on his hips and it’s loose enough it might slide off, so Harry keeps a grip on it as he steps out of the shower, careful not to accidentally slip on the mat.

Harry untangles the towel hanging low on his waist, scrubbing it on his body to dry himself off. His hair is wet and curling up on his shoulder blades, and if he wasn’t about to get into bed, he’d let it air dry as he does every time he washes it during the day. He’s not trying to catch a cold, though, so he grabs his hairdryer, turns it on and brings it around his hair until he’s confident it’s dry enough and he’ll be fine when he wakes up tomorrow; or today, actually. 

After he’s done fully drying, he picks up his towel, throwing it into the hamper to wash later on and saunters over to his room. It’s dark as he walks in, due to leaving the curtains closed before he left for his shift earlier that day. He can see the sun peeking out from the sides, but not enough to actually bother him. 

Harry pulls back the soft covers on his bed, lazily settling inside without bothering to put on any clothes. It’s warm under his sheets and everyone knows it’s better to sleep naked, or at least that’s what his mildly nudist heart tells him. Either way, he’s too tired to care and prefers to spend the last hanging thread of energy left with getting nice and comfortable in bed. There’s something so rewarding about getting into bed after a full day of working, and he definitely feels it as he brings the covers over his broad body.

As he finally settles into a comfortable position on his side, he closes his eyes and lets himself wander off to some much needed sleep. It’s nice and quiet, which is exactly what he needs. The upstairs neighbours aren’t making any noise and it’s a relief considering their newborn baby. Harry loves kids, he can’t wait to be a father himself at some point in his life, but that child has been the reason behind a few sleepless nights, and he’s happy the baby got the memo to keep quiet this night. Harry’s sure he’d go insane if he didn't.

Harry sighs in relief and lets the silence lull him into sleep. He faintly hears some birds chirping outside, but they don’t bother him at all. It’s quite relaxing, actually, and he can feel himself slipping into sleep as he listens to the soft chirps, and the- 

He suddenly jolts awake by an annoying buzzing sound on his bedside table, and he probably would’ve fallen off his bed if he was leaning any closer to the edge. His eyes snap open, only to slip closed again with how heavy his lids feel and for a second, he thinks a dream caused him to wake up so abruptly. 

Harry groans as he realizes his phone’s the culprit. 

He considers ignoring it, out of spite against whoever decided to disturb him when he was a second away from finally falling asleep, and settles down again to get back to finally sleeping his day off. 

It’s fine for a couple of minutes, it’s quiet in Harry’s room other than the birds chirping outside and he feels himself start to slip off again. But the universe, however, seems to have other plans for him that don’t include sleeping, and not too long after the first buzz, another text comes in. And another.

Harry thinks he’ll go insane if his phone keeps buzzing like that. 

“ _Fuck_.” He grunts against his pillow, stretching his arm over to his bedside table, bringing his hand up and accidentally knocking something over as he feels for his phone. He makes a note to himself to pick up whatever fell off when he wakes up as he grabs his phone, bringing it towards his face and squinting his eyes at the brightness of his screen. He grumbles to himself as he lowers the luminosity to its lowest setting and unlocks his phone.

There’s a few notifications waiting for him, some texts from his mum and a few friends that he probably missed earlier. He scrolls past those, deciding to look into them when he’s up and a little more sober minded. Harry swipes through the rest of his notifications until he reaches the ones who woke him up, and he doesn’t hold back a groan when he sees it’s his boss.

_'Styles, Sanah won’t be coming in tonight so you’re taking her shift. Thanks see you later.’_

_Ugh_ , Harry groans, lazily throwing his phone somewhere on his bed. He doesn’t really care where it lands, but he doesn’t hear a thump so it’s still somewhere over his sheets and that’s a problem he’ll deal with in the morning. 

Grumpily, he turns back over onto his side, dragging the covers over his shoulders and getting comfortable for some much needed sleep. 

\-------

When Harry wakes up, he’s definitely in a much better mood. 

Any drowsiness that carried him to sleep was left in the way, and even if he just woke up, Harry’s feeling more awake and refreshed than the day before. He doesn’t know for how long he slept, but it feels like enough. He’s naturally an early riser, and it clashes when his late night shifts go out for longer, but a quick glance at the red numbers on his alarm clock show he’s had a decent amount of sleep. His mood has also considerably improved and there’s a usual easy aura surrounding him as Harry gets out of bed and starts his day. 

He’s reminded of his shift at the bar later tonight when he’s making his bed after breakfast, or brunch more like, and hears a buzz coming from his phone. It ends up just being his mum checking in on him, but it works as a reminder to what had slipped through his mind. 

He ends up not being too upset about having to work tonight again. It’s his job, after all, and a job he likes working for, so he doesn’t mind it much. And it’s not that Harry absolutely hates taking up extra shifts, since the money coming in is always handy. The issue comes from his boss having a track record of not being the most organized whenever someone needs a substitute for their shifts. It’s always a last minute thing and usually clashes with any plans Harry would have made for the day. 

This time, however, Harry had nothing other than working out, fixing up his old motorbike and making wood carvings on his to do list, so it’s not that big of an issue that he got called in for another shift.

As Harry finishes up his breakfast, or brunch, more like, he sees he’s still got plenty of time before being needed back at the bar and figures he could slide in part of his work out routine to make up for lost time. With that in mind, he finishes cleaning up the kitchen before dressing up in his normal work out gear and heads out for a quick run. 

\----

Harry turns his car off when he finally parks behind the bar within ten minutes to spare before his shift starts. 

It’s not a long drive from his flat to the bar, but there wasn’t much traffic today and it’s always better to arrive a little earlier in case any of his co-workers needed any help, which happens quite often, yet Harry doesn’t mind. He even managed to finish up his workout routine for the day and right before he had to leave, so it all worked out for him. 

He takes the keys off the ignition and notices Niall’s car as he walks in. He never really knows who he has to work with, but he gets along with everyone, so there’s hardly any issues between him and his co-workers. Niall happens to be one of his closest friends, despite not getting too many shifts together, so he’s happy he’s working with him tonight. 

“Harry?” A familiar irish voice rings as Harry walks inside the back of Howling Lizard, “What’re you doing here?” Niall asks as Harry shrugs his leather jacket off, “Thought you only came back in on Sunday.”

“Taking Sanah’s shift,” He replies, no bitterness on his tongue, “Micheal asked me when I got home last night, didn’t have much of a say.”

“Ah, I know the drill,” Niall nods in understanding, “Well, that sucks. I was gonna ask her out tonight.”

Harry raises a brow with a smirk, “Who, Sanah? You were? After she rejected you, what, three times already?”

“She didn’t ‘reject me’,” Niall scoffs, “She said she was busy, that’s all.”

“All three of the nights?” 

Niall rolls his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that, Styles,” He says, “I’m trying here, not all of us are just blessed with effortless big dick energy and curly hair. We gotta work for it.”

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes, but he can’t help but snort at Niall’s antics.

“C’mon, Niall, we got shit to do.” Harry waves him off with a chuckle, as he turns to hang his jacket on the staff's coat rack. 

“Yeah, and you’re carrying the kegs,” Niall adds, “I'm not the one with a gym membership and who actually enjoys working out."

Harry laughs, not fighting him on it as they get to work. His toned arms flex as he picks the keg up, and pretends he doesn’t hear Niall grumble about his firm muscles in the background.

\-----

So far, it’s been a good night. 

Harry might be getting too ahead of himself with this claim. It’s barely even one in the morning and it didn’t take long for the bar to get crowded. Against all expectations, no one’s being obnoxiously rowdy or a pain in the ass to any of the staff, which Harry counts equally as a win and a huge relief. 

Shit can get messy during night outs, and there’s been way too many fights for his liking that Harry’s had to break up in the past, and it’s definitely not something he looks forward to at all. He can definitely defend himself, given his few years of boxing and self defense in the gym under his belt, but he’s also gotten a few bloody noses too and those were never something to look forward to. It’s much better for everyone’s safety when there’s peaceful nights like these. 

Plus, there’s yet to be any vomit to get cleaned up, so all in all, it’s being a great night for everyone. 

By now, Harry’s got a good buzz. 

At some point in the night, he and Niall managed to sneak in some shots with two girls that Harry knows had ulterior motives. They seemed very into them and were trying way too hard to get their attention, but unfortunately for them, neither of them seemed that interested in the girls. Niall was dead set on winning Sanah’s heart over and neither of them were really Harry’s type, so they just played along and snagged some drinks before the girls eventually took the hint and walked away to look for someone else to hit on, most likely. Harry’s far from judging. 

“One martini,” Harry says, loud enough to be heard with the blaring pop music playing, as he hands over the freshly made drink to a guy leaning over the counter as he reaches for his drink. He seems drunk, at least four drinks in, but he’s not being unpleasant, or showing any signs of passing out on his bar, so Harry doesn’t mind it too much, especially not when the man slides him a twenty dollar bill and leaves before Harry could even say a word. 

He shrugs and happily registers his order and pockets his hefty tip, nodding his head along the bass as he waits for someone to order. He’s half paying attention to the crowd, and out of the corner of his eye, he senses someone waiting on him and as he looks up, Harry almost forgets how to breathe. 

Standing on the other side of the counter, is perhaps the prettiest man Harry’s ever laid his eyes on. There’s a smile on his face, nervous yet so buoyant that Harry can’t help but let his eyes linger on for a second longer. His hair is feathery and soft looking, curling behind his neck and fringe looking effortlessly perfect that it takes a lot of self restraint to run his fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked. 

His figure is rather small and dainty, a complete contrast from Harry’s broader figure. He’s wearing a black tank top that’s a size too big, yet it fits him perfectly and Harry definitely wouldn’t mind looking at him all day.

And his eyes. _God_ , his eyes. It’s dark inside, but it’s still so clear how pretty they are. Glazed over and impossible to look away from. Intentional or not, this man is pulling him in with just one look and he can’t find it in him to mind. 

It’s a face he hasn't seen around here, and Harry knows this for a fact because he’s sure he’d definitely remember a face like this.

Harry doesn’t fully realize he’s practically ogling until the man leans against the counter with an eyebrow raised. He manages to snap out of his little trance, but he still allows the thought about how this stranger's eyes are definitely prettier up close, light blue even more stunning in the daylight, he’s sure. 

“Sorry, what?”

Pretty eyes snorts, “I asked if I could have a gin and tonic, please.”

Harry raises a brow, already reaching for a glass, “Sure you don’t want a sex on the beach? It’s my specialty, or so I hear.” 

Harry shoots him a wink, and almost pretty eyes considers it for a second, before he realizes the innuendo and facepalms and giggles. There’s a warm feeling in Harry’s stomach from making him laugh, he doesn’t hide the satisfied grin on his face.

“Not from you, that’s for fucking sure.” Pretty eyes says jokingly, “That’s a hard pass, don’t take it personal, though.”

The bartender laughs, “Would it really be the worst thing in the world?”

“The worst, absolutely,” Pretty eyes confirms, exaggerating his mannerisms, “Can’t imagine being in a worse situation, honestly.”

“I’ll try not to cry myself to sleep tonight, can’t make any promises, though. You’ve wounded me, pet,” Harry smiles, bringing the cup up to fill it with booze. His eyes fleetingly glance over to the stranger, and Harry can’t keep the smile when he sees the strangers eyes linger on his biceps.

“Re-considering?” Harry smirks, putting the glass between the short distance between them. 

“Are you flirting with me?” He asks rather bluntly, yet still holding a teasing edge, “Because I'm on a date right now, if you must know.” 

“Oh, are you?” Harry raises a brow, smirk still fixed in place, “First date at a crowded bar? How romantic.”

Pretty boy crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to look intimidating, but he honestly just looks like an angry kitten. “What do you know about modern romance?”

“More than taking a pretty boy like you to a packed bar, that’s for sure, baby,” Harry smirks, sliding his drink over.

It was only a short interaction, but it was clear that the pretty boy had a quick wit and some good comebacks under his belt, so it came as a surprise to see him fluster. It’s hard to tell under these lights, but Harry’s positive there’s a blush staining pretty boy’s cheeks and he wishes he could get a better view of it.

“Well,” Pretty boy clears his throat, “Who said I’d ever go out with someone like you.” 

“Feisty,” Harry grins, “And fair enough. Here’s your drink, doll,” Harry flashes him a smirk, “On the house.”

Pretty boy raises an eyebrow, clearly going for the unimpressed look, but there’s a smile peeking from his lips that makes Harry feel something, accomplishment, or smitten.

“Thanks,” He says, uncertainly taking the glass and bringing it up to his lips for a short sip, all while keeping his eyes on the bartender. He smacks his lips, knowing full well Harry’s gaze is glued to them, and occasionally peaks his tongue out as he tastes the drink and oh God, the countless things going through Harry’s head. 

“I’ve had better,” He shrugs, smiling as he watches Harry process his words and turns around before the bartender could even argue back. It’s a bittersweet moment, watching him go. On one hand, it sucks that he’s not with him anymore, and there’s no certainty if he’ll be back, but on the other, watching him sway his hips as he ventures into the crowd was probably one of the best things Harry’s seen all day. 

It’s pretty inevitable how Harry’s eyes drift down, gaze following the curve of the strangers back down to his ass, and he can’t help but let his eyes linger in place when he’s got the best arse he’s ever seen, and in those jeans that might as well have been painted on.

Harry’s in heaven, he’s sure of it.

Eventually, and much too soon for his liking, Harry loses complete sight of him as he gets swallowed in the middle of the crowd, and Harry hopes it won't take long before Pretty Eyes is back here where he wants him.

\---

Throughout the rest of the night, Harry makes sure to keep an eye on the crowd in case he sees Pretty Boy walk up to the bar again, but it’s to no avail. He’s lost him in the sea of people, and he’s not even sure if he’s still even inside the bar, so he goes back to work, serving drinks and occasionally looking up for a look over at the crowd in case he spots a fluff of hair or perfect curves. 

By the end of the night, Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever see that beautiful man ever again. 

It’s a painful thought to think about, and even harder to process, but as the bar starts to empty out, he still doesn’t spot him and at this point, he’s lost faith he will ever see him again any time soon. He probably ended up leaving with his date, which is to be expected, but that thought doesn’t sit right with him at all. 

His shift ends soon, he’s got about ten minutes before he can leave, which means he won’t be able to be on the lookout any longer. He could always stay behind a while longer, but he’d either get dragged in for more work or come across as a creep, as if he wasn’t acting like one already. He’s tired, too, and falling asleep while watching re-runs of dumb reality tv shows sounds like the perfect end of the night for him. 

“Harry?” Jenna, one of his co-workers, calls out for him, “Could you take out the trash? It’s getting too filled up again.”

“Sure,” He tells her, heading back to where they keep the trash can and ties a knot at the top before pulling up the black back. It’s heavy, filled with empty alcohol bottles and whatever else got thrown into it, yet he still carries it out with ease. 

He pushes the back door open with his shoulder, whistling a tune as he tosses the trash bag over. It makes a loud noise as it hits the rest of the trash, but working at the bar made Harry expect it anyways. What he doesn’t expect is seeing someone sitting next to the stairs to the bar.

A yelp almost escapes Harry’s lips and he’s glad he isn’t holding the trash bag anymore, since he’s positive he would’ve instinctively dropped it, or worse, thrown it at the person who scared him, which wouldn’t be pleasant at all for either one of them. 

He’s glad his instincts stopped him from doing something stupid, because as he settles his fright, his eyes widen as Harry realizes the person sitting there, who scared the living shit out of him, is the same man he lost sight of earlier; Pretty Eyes. 

Harry stands still in front of him, taking a second to thank his lucky stars he hadn’t left the bar after all, but the excitement is short-lived as the stranger catches Harry’s eyes with his own, and it’s then that Harry sees how they look slightly puffy and downcast, as if he’d been crying. 

“Are you even allowed back here?” Harry decides to say, lightly and in an attempt to pull a smile out of him. 

“You tell me,” He replies after a beat, voice dull and slightly raspier than what he’d recall. 

Harry takes a step closer, “I don’t think so, actually.”

Out of spite, Pretty Eyes leans back against the wall and settles as if to get comfortable, though Harry doubts he’d ever get any comfort from sitting on concrete, from his personal experience.

“That’s too bad, then.” He mutters, shiver seeping through his throat, and it’s then that Harry registers how much the stranger is shivering from the cold, “Sounds like a you problem, if you ask me.”

There’s obviously something bothering him and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand the dejected energy coming from Pretty Eyes. He looks upset and nothing like the flirty, quick witted angel Harry saw at the start of the night.

Without thinking twice, Harry heads back inside the bar and b-lines to pick up his leather jacket. He narrowly avoids any co-workers, for once, and heads back outside, where it’s considerably colder. The stranger is still sitting exactly how Harry left him, but now it seems like his shivers are more obvious than before. 

His eyes are closed as Harry approaches his body, only snapping open as he feels Harry draping his jacket over him, in an attempt to give him back some much needed warmth. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Warming you up,” Harry says, almost like it’s obvious, “Couldn’t leave you out here freezing.”

Louis doesn’t break eye contact with him, glaring at him in a way that contrasts with how cute he looks wrapped with Harry’s oversized leather jacket. 

“You don’t have to be standing up,” Pretty Eyes eventually says, “Sit down, I’m getting tired just looking at you.”

It’s not what Harry expects to hear, but it’s somehow better than what he imagined. He silently goes with his orders, sitting down on the other side and leaving enough room between them to fit another person. Harry wanted to sit close to him, maybe even wrap an arm around his smaller frame and cuddle him until he wasn’t cold anymore, but he can’t. Not right now. 

Harry clears his throat, breaking the silence between them. 

“Do you…” He tentatively starts, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There's nothing to talk about.” The stranger firmly says, closing back his eyes as if he were about to fall asleep. Harry won’t let him, though. Not a chance. 

“Then what’re you doing here, all by yourself?” Harry asks, widening his eyes when he realizes how insensitive he sounded. “ _Shit_ , I didn’t mean it to come across as harsh, I was just-”

“It’s okay,” He cuts him off, “My dumb date left me for another twink while I was in the bathroom.” He scoffs, “Serves me right for going out with dicks like him, though. Men are all the same.”

Harry grimaces, “I’m sorry, you don’t deserve to be treated like that.” 

“Thanks.” The stranger offers, and lets an awkward, tense silence fall between them. It’s mildly uncomfortable and it seems like he’s done having this conversation, but Harry doesn’t have the heart to leave him out here all alone, not when he can help it. 

“Listen…” Harry starts, “My shift ends in like, ten minutes. Do you need a ride back?”

“No, it’s okay,” He immediately shuts him down, much to his disappointment, “I’ll just take a cab home.”

“And let you stay out here freezing?” Louis grimaces, “C’mon, I’ll take you home. It’s no problem.”

“My mum said not to take rides from strangers,” Pretty Eyes says, corners of his lips turning up into a smile.

“Am I really a stranger?” Harry asks, smiling matching his. 

“Don’t even know your name.” He points out, and Harry realizes he’s completely right. He’s gotten so used to calling him ‘Pretty Eyes’ in his mind, it almost felt like it was his actual name. 

“Harry,” He says, stretching his hand out for a shake, “S’nice to meet you.”

“M’Louis,” He giggles for the first time during their conversation, and it’s a relief to hear him back in a good mood.

He’s got such a beautiful name, too. Fitting for such a beautiful person.

“C’mon then, Louis,” He says, bringing a hand out to help him stand up, “Let’s get you home.”

\----

The car ride to Louis’ flat is pleasant, to say the least. 

There’s music playing softly in the background, coming from an 80’s radio station Harry never bothered to change. Louis doesn’t mind it, he likes this sort of music too and it’s nice to have found something in common between them as they sing along to Stevie Nicks. 

It’s a longer commute than to Harry’s house, but he doesn’t mind the drive at all. On the contrary, actually. He enjoys driving and has been for years, and driving Louis around is fun. They spend the drive laughing together, conversation flows easily between them, and it doesn’t feel awkward when it quiets down between them until they’re bopping to whatever song from the eighties comes up next.

When Harry eventually pulls his car to a stop in front of Louis’ flat, neither of them make a move. Harry almost feels like he’s in middle school again, hanging out with his crush and being too scared to even look at them, and he idly wonders if the full grown adult version of that isn’t too different after all. It’s definitely a change from his usual confident self, that’s for sure.

“Thanks for dropping me off,” Louis eventually says. There’s a smile on his face, nervous and sweet as he pushes his fringe back behind his ear. He looks beautiful under the moonlight, Harry thinks to himself, and he’s got a feeling he looks just as beautiful in any sort of way.

“Anytime, Lou,” Harry replies sincerely, a kind smile etched on his face. 

Louis’ hand is on the door and he pushes it slightly open before he stops and doesn’t leave. In fact, he turns back over to Harry. Harry raises an eyebrow and his heart almost stops beating when Louis leans over the console to press his lips against his cheek. 

It’s short and sweet, but it’s enough to make Harry feel dizzy and have his stomach erupt in warmth and a plethora of butterflies.

“I’ll see you soon,” Louis smiles, before he gets out of the car and closes the door behind him. Harry doesn’t leave until Louis' safe at home, smiling wide every time Louis looks over his shoulder for a quick glance behind him.

When Louis closes the door to his complex behind him, Harry starts to drive away with a smile on his face, and it doesn’t leave until he’s in bed and lost in dreams about blue eyes and soft smiles. 

\---

When Harry spots Louis approaching him at the bar, he can’t say he’s surprised at all. 

After what happened a few weeks ago, Harry wasn’t entirely sure if he’d ever see Louis again. He realized they hadn’t swapped phone numbers, or any other form of contacting each other, so unless Louis would show up again at the bar, there was a high chance of never seeing each other again, if at all. 

Obviously, that didn’t sit right with Harry and he mentally smacked himself for forgetting such a trivial thing. It didn’t even cross his mind at the time, really, so all that was left was the memory of the prettiest man he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

So it’s a pleasant surprise when Louis’ leaning against the counter the following weekend, just like last time. It felt like Deja Vu, except a thousand times better. This time, Harry didn’t forget about swapping numbers and since then, Louis’ been coming by as often as he can.

Their hangouts haven’t been limited to weekend club nights, though. They’ve met up a few times for coffee and a snack, and after finding out about Harry’s hobbies, he decided to surprise Louis with a carving of a little bird made just for him. He ends up loving it and insists Harry teach him how to do some of his own. It’s a date, they agree on. 

“What can I do ya for?” Harry smiles as Louis pretends to think over his order. Meanwhile, Harry’s already preparing to make a strawberry daiquiri behind the counter.

“I think I want sex on the beach this time,” Louis ponders out loud, “I need to change things up a bit, I’m so vanilla with my drinks.”

Harry almost curses at the innuendo. 

Ever since the first night Harry dropped him off, they’ve hardly moved past short kisses on the cheek and little touches that drove him wild, and it’s fair to say his balls couldn’t get any bluer. Louis’ very aware of the mutual attraction between them, and he seems to enjoy teasing Harry as much as he can and stopping right when things are about to turn, or at least that’s what Harry’s a very firm believer of. It sounds like Louis, though. He’s sure of it.

Harry makes him his drink, adding a blue straw to match his eyes and a pink umbrella because Louis likes having them in his drinks. He tries to avoid zoning in on his lips as Louis takes a sip, cheekbones sucked in and leaving a ton for his imagination. It’s hard, and Louis knows it’s hard for him to look away.

Louis stops sucking and pokes his tongue out to slide against his bottom lip and it shouldn’t be this attractive to Harry, but it is. He’s sure his knuckles are white by now, and he feels a throb on his cock. His pants are way too tight for this to be happening right now. 

“Delicious,” He smacks his lips, “Maybe I do need more sex on the beach. You’ve set my expectations high, Harry.”

With no time to give a choked answer, Louis is off to the dance floor. He’s mindful enough to save Harry from the heartache and not disappear into the crowd, instead hanging around in a spot that’s a clear shot from where Harry’s standing. It’s a relief he gets to keep an eye on Louis, but it’s quick to become pure torture since Louis’ over there dancing, and Harry’s stuck behind the counter, unable to be the one dancing next to him. Or behind him. 

Harry watches as Louis sways his hips, expertly moving his body to the beat of the music and somehow keeping his drink intact. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and as Louis finally locks his eyes with him, it gets more distracting than before. Louis knows what he does to him, and it’s driving Harry absolutely mad as he falls under his spell. 

There’s men circling around him as he dances, gazing at the way he moves and how beautiful he looks under the dark lights. Louis pays them no mind, enjoying himself in his own little world and winking at Harry when he catches him staring. 

In all his years of bartending, Harry’s never been as distracted as he is right now. 

It’s hard to focus on an order when Louis’ got on his tightest pair of black skinny jeans and moving his body that should be considered sinful. It doesn’t help how he’s obviously struggling, and Louis’ over there giggling whenever Harry has to start over. 

It worsens when one of idiots hawking around Louis comes up behind him, and places his hands on Louis’ hips, where Harry’s hands should be. He sees Louis visibly startle, clearly not expecting any advance despite having multiple eyes on him and being more than aware of it, but he’s just as quick to lean into the touch, only because he knows Harry’s watching. 

His eyes never leave Harry’s. It almost feels like the most infuriating staring competition, though it’s not too far off. He knows it’s a game they’re playing, a game Louis wants to win and he’s doing everything he can to really set Harry on edge. 

It’s working, in case that wasn’t obvious enough, and Louis can tell it is. 

Harry almost drops a freshly made drink when he sees the man behind his Louis get too comfortable. His hands start to crawl to Louis’ tummy, face digging into the nape of his neck and Harry’s just about to put an end to it when Louis’ one step ahead of him. 

He untangles himself from the man and shoots a look at Harry before disappearing into the crowd. 

It seems like himself and the gross man who danced with Louis were confused about the sudden disappearance, and Harry wonders if it’s better to see Louis dance with someone or not see him at all. It’s a tough question to answer. 

His shift is about to end, and something tells him that Louis’ still hanging around somewhere around the bar, so he’s not too concerned about his whereabouts. He never goes home without letting Harry know, especially since Harry’s been the one dropping him off lately, so he’s sure that whatever he’s doing, he’s definitely up to no good. 

Harry ends up being proved right when he finally steps out of the bar when he’s done with his shift, with the intention of heading back to his car. He isn’t too surprised when he sees Louis lean against the passenger side, arms crossed over his chest as he waited for Harry. 

“Thought you left me there all alone.” Harry says as he walks to Louis. 

“Just needed some fresh air,” Louis shrugs. He picks himself up from the side of the car, dropping his arms from the front of his chest and twirling a strand of his hair with his index.

“Are you gonna give me another ride home?” He prettily blinks up at him, flashing him the start of a smile.

“I don't know,” Harry muses, smiling to himself when Louis’ own smile falters, “My mum told me not to talk to strangers.”

Louis huffs, stands close til there’s barely any space between them to breathe. Harry’s sure it’d only take someone to gently nudge Louis to push them into a kiss. 

Harry has to look down to properly face him, and it shouldn’t be this endearing to see Louis on his tiptoes and with his smaller hand standing between them. 

“Hi, I’m Louis,” He introduces himself, “May I have a ride home, kind gentleman? I can pay you back.”

A smirk makes its way onto Harry’s lips as Harry’s palm engulfs Louis’ own, “I can think of a few ways you could return the favor.”

Louis places his hands over Harry’s chest, right one over his heart and Harry idly wonders if he can feel how fast it’s beating. His face doesn’t reveal anything, so he either doesn’t or he’s just a really good actor. It saves him from the embarrassment of being called out, though, which is definitely a plus

He leans in, and Harry finds himself subconsciously doing the same. His hands come up to rest against Louis’ hips, fitting perfectly and feeling wonderful under his touch. He lowers his head, tilting his head to the side until he feels Louis’ gentle breathing against his lips. 

“Credit or debit?”

And with that, Harry snorts. 

He pulls back and tries not to think about how he misses touching Louis, or feeling his hands on him. It’s not too cold out, yet he still misses the warmth for a second. 

“C’mon, just get in the car,” Harry says, moving around to the drivers side, 

The drive is just how it always is, nice and peaceful. There’s hardly anyone outside and the only thing being heard is the quiet music coming from the radio. Neither of them speak much, settling instead for a comfortable silence.

It doesn’t feel quite as nice as Harry’s large hand resting on Louis’ thigh. 

How this happened exactly, neither can be sure, but that’s the thing with them. Their relationship, or whatever this is, bloomed so easily from the start that everything between them just feels natural. So, things like little touches and physical affection were just the norm between them. 

Harry likes to think this is just the start of something great. 

As he drives, Harry feels Louis trace little shapes on the back of his hand, idly so. He smiles and squeezes his thigh, and definitely doesn’t miss the cute squeal, followed by a giggle, that Louis couldn’t hold in. 

He doesn’t take his hands off of Harry. Louis keeps tracing, or toying with his rings, until eventually placing his hand over Harry’s and slotting their fingers between them. Harry would be a liar if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat.

Eventually, they reach Louis’ flat. 

Like all nights lately, Louis doesn’t immediately leave. Neither of them want to part just yet, so they sit there and talk until Louis’ about to fall asleep. It’s pleasant and it’s given Harry a chance to learn more about the blue eyed beauty; his hobbies, favorite things, what makes him laugh. Everything that makes him feel even more smitten every time he opens his mouth. 

Tonight, Harry just can’t hold it in anymore. Without even thinking, he gently grabs Louis’ wrist before he can reach for the handle and it’s like time stops when Louis turns his head over to look at him. 

“Louis…” Harry breathes, slightly tightening his grip on Louis to keep him here, “Can I…”

A smile breaks out on Louis’ face, “ _God_ , I thought you'd never ask.”

Harry barely even registers what happens as he releases his grip on Louis and has him wrap his arms around his neck before leaning in and finally slotting their lips together. Louis’ lips feel amazing, much better than what he envisioned and surpassed any previous fantasies he’s had.

He can hardly hold back a smile as their tongues slide together, tasting each other and pulling him in. Harry’s hand comes up behind Louis’ neck, his other on his waist. He idly remembers the man from earlier who had his hand where Harry has, and he can’t help the irrational jealousy he feels, especially when he’s got his lips tangled with Louis’. He grips his waist tightly, silently letting his senseless possessiveness break through, and making Louis moan between their lips. 

Harry doesn't want to stop kissing Louis, but making out with a console lodged between their bodies is quick to make things uncomfortable. Harry needs to be closer to Louis, and by the sounds coming from Louis, he looks like he needs it too.

“C’mere,” Harry grunts between them, “Sit on my lap, baby.”

Louis doesn’t need to be told twice. As Harry pushes his seat back to accommodate them both, Louis gets up from his seat to move onto his lap. It’s awkward and he hits Harry with his limbs way too many times, but it’s worth it when he’s finally settled on his lap in a straddle. They share a secret smile together as Louis places his hands on Harry’s chest, the latter fitting his own on Louis’ hips, right where they belong. 

Their lips join once again, slotting together so perfectly it almost feels like a dream. Harry’s tongue slips back inside Louis’ mouth, gliding together in a way that made the air around them hotter. Harry’s hands lower to Louis’ ass, kneading his firm and thick flesh and unintentionally making him rut against his bulging cock. 

Both of them gasp at the feeling. Louis chases it as he slowly grinds his hips against Harry’s crotch. It feels amazing, Louis’ ass against his dick is a match made in heaven and Harry suddenly hates how their clothes are stopping them from getting the skin to skin contact they desperately need. It’s steaming up inside the car, and clothes need to be off.

Louis’ hands slide up Harry’s chest til they’re nuzzled against his chiseled jaw as he slides their tongues together. Harry squeezes his ass before bringing his hands up, slipping his fingers beneath the t-shirt he wore tonight and feels Louis’ warm and soft skin beneath his palm. 

Louis gets the hint as Harry rubs his bare back and reluctantly pulls back from Harry’s lips, only connected by a string of saliva, and to Harry’s dismay, stops moving his hips as he sits back and slips his shirt off, revealing his perky nipples and soft tummy.

Harry’s mouth waters at the sight and he immediately brings Louis closer by his hips to slot his mouth against his left nipple. Louis moans as Harry nips and sucks against the raised nub, all while lowering his hands back against Louis’ ass and squeezing as he squirms above him. 

“ _Please_ ,” Louis whines, “Feel so good…”

“Yeah,” Harry asks, admiring how fucked out Louis looks already and how pretty he looks, “Can make you feel better.”

“Prove it,” Louis challenges, and Harry takes him right up for it.

Harry leans back in, roughly locking their lips together as his hands go straight to Louis’ jeans. It could’ve taken him two seconds to properly zip them down, but it was hard to concentrate with Louis’ lips on his and having his ass nestled perfectly on top of his cock.

It’s a struggle to get Louis’ pants off, more awkward positions, more smacking Harry with his elbow and accidentally honking the car as Louis leant back. It startles both of them for a minute before they laugh it off and some place in between, Louis’ tight jeans get flown somewhere inside the car. Neither of them care where they end up landing, not when Louis’ sitting on his lap, looking so beautiful and wearing nothing but a black, lacy thong. 

“Fuck, Lou,” Harry grunts, biting his lower lip as he appreciates the sight in front of him, “You’re so fucking hot, wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Please, Harry,” Louis whines, rutting his hips against Harry’s bulge, “Do something, _please_.”

Harry’s suddenly grateful he’s got some lube and condoms in the glove compartment, especially when he’s got such a pretty boy squirming on his cock. Blindly, with Louis’ lips locked on the nape of his neck, he reaches over to grab his supplies and drops them on the cup holders in the console. 

He groans when Louis bites a little harder and smacks his hand on Louis’ bare ass as punishment. Louis, however, sees it as a reward and it only provokes him to continue the assault. Harry’s got no complaints about it.

Meanwhile, Harry pops open the bottle of lube and squirts enough of the cool gel onto his middle and index finger. With his dry hand, he teases a finger down Louis’ crack, rubbing his hole over the thin fabric and smirking to himself as Louis falters above him and lets out the hottest moans. 

“C’mon, Harry…” Louis begs, pushing his hips back as he teases his middle finger on his covered hole. It’s nice to see Louis so desperate and needy, and even if it was incredibly entertaining to tease him, Harry’s been dying to feel Louis’ entrance, so he pulls the lace back and spreads some lube over his rim, feeling him shiver as Harry finally slides his middle finger inside til it reaches his knuckles.

It’s warm and tight and everything Harry could imagine as he gently moves his finger. Louis’ lips have long gone sloppy against his neck, and Harry catches them with his and swallows any moan and quiet gasp as he slid in a second finger inside Louis. 

After the third, Louis’ almost a crying mess. He’s pushing his hips back at the same pace Harry’s thrusting them in and Harry’s certain he saw a wet patch of pre cum staining the front of Louis’ panties. It reminds him of his own straining cock, still covered by his constricting jeans and begging to be inside Louis’ warmth. 

“Can’t even hold it in,” Harry grunts, kneading a hand on Louis’ ass while fucking him with the other, “Need to be inside you now, baby.”

“F-fuck me, p-please,” Louis sobs, “I-I’m so close.”

Harry can tell by Louis’ small dick pressing against his abs. He’s sure his shirt’s got a pre cum stain as well, but he’s definitely not mad about it. 

He slides his tongue with Louis’ as he pulls his fingers out, already missing the heat encompassing them. Louis whines and moves his fingers to unbutton Harry's jeans, pulling them down as best as he can and doesn’t hesitate to pull Harry’s girth out from his boxer briefs, wrapping his hand around his base, and Harry tries not to smirk when his hand can’t fully wrap around his cock. 

“No need to be so smug,” Louis mumbles between them as he drags his wrist up and down Harry’s cock, “I’ve seen bigger.”

Harry tries not to scoff, yet can’t help it escape him.

“No one’s gonna fuck you as well as I do.”

Louis smiles against his lips, “You sound sure of yourself.”

It’s the worst timing as Louis squeezes around his throbbing head, making him grunt instead of talking back. 

Harry clenches his jaw, squeezing Louis’ ass a little harder, “Just get on my cock, you brat.”

Louis’ giggling to himself as he reaches for a condom and slides it with ease on Harry’s hard cock. He takes his time with the lube too, squeezing more than enough on his palm and being painfully slow as he lathers Harry’s cock up. Harry could make him speed things up, be quicker and less meticulous about lube, _for fucks sake_ , but it’s Louis, and there’s something so hot about him that Harry just lets him do his thing, even if it’s torture for him. 

It feels like forever before Louis’s finally content with his work and Harry doesn’t realize he’s holding in a breath until Louis releases his grip on his pulsating cock. His hands are firmly stuck to Louis’ hips, no doubt probably leaving some bruises behind.

The smaller one raises himself on his knees, and Harry can’ help but to drop butterfly kisses on his torso and caress his hands on his thick thighs as Louis grabs his cock from behind and lining it up with his puckered hole. 

Both of them gasp as Louis lowers himself, slowing fitting more of Harry’s massive length inside of him. Harry grips his waist tighter, moaning deeply as he buries himself deeper inside Louis’ warm, velvety walls. It feels amazing, and Harry wishes he could stay like this forever.

Once Louis’s finally settled, it’s clear by the look on his face he needs a second to adjust. Harry tries not to let it stroke his ego too much and instead, focuses on whispering sweet nothings to Louis while running his hands down his back and kissing him to distract Louis from the discomfort he’s feeling. 

Eventually, Louis begins to move his hips, slowly testing the waters as he feels the pain of being stretched out dull into waves of pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” Harry encourages him, keeping his hands on Louis’ small waist as he picks up his speed above him, “You’re so beautiful, look so pretty taking my cock.”

Louis moans, either from the dirty talking or Harry’s cock pressing against his prostate, or even both, and it’s amazing to watch, even better to feel every time Louis clenches down on his girth. Harry’s head falls back against the seat. It’s hot in here, steaming up so quickly and he takes a hand off Louis’ waist and places it against the window, letting himself feel the coolness of the window, and the heat of Louis’ entrance on his thick girth. 

“You feel so good,” Harry slurls, “Your pretty hole was made for me, baby.”

“Y-yeah,” Louis moans, “Love your cock..fill me up so well.”

Harry pulls Louis in for a rough kiss, messily sliding their tongues together and ignoring the sudden warmth starting to flare up on his lower abdomen.

“ _Please_.”

Louis’ hips start to falter, he’s getting tired of doing all the work and the frustration is evident on his pretty face, so Harry leans backwards and grips Louis’ hips tightly and securely before thrusting upwards, snapping his hips and grunting as Louis throws his head back in pleasure.

“Saw the way you were dancing,” Harry groans, “Shaking your ass for everyone to see.”

Louis lets out a cry as Harry jabs his special little bundle of nerves, hitting it straight on and making his eyes start to fill up with tears. 

“It’s mine,” Harry growls, lowering a hand to fully squeeze at the inviting flesh swallowing him whole, “You’re only mine.”

“Only yours,” Louis cries, “ _Please_ , I-I’m only yours.”

Harry’s hips pound deeper and harder at how pliant and submissive Louis is, considering his usual witty and bratty self, “That’s it, baby, you’re taking my cock so well, you’re so beautiful.”

“C-close,” He cries, “S-so close!”

The warmth on Harry’s lower abdomen builds up, and his balls are starting to clench up. He can’t let himself come first, Louis’ orgasm is much more of a priority than his own, so he keeps on pushing his hips, watching as Louis gets pushed closer to the edge, and doesn’t stop until Louis’ jaw drops and clenches tightly around Harry’s girth as he makes a mess inside his lacy thong, as well as his own lower abdomen and the bottom of Harry’ t-shirt. 

Harry continues to thrust as Louis rides out his high, biting his lower lip as Louis clenches his opening tightly and intermittently on Harry’s length. It only takes a few more thrusts before Harry’s hips become sloppier, and with another clench, Harry’s balls tighten up and he stills with a groan as he unloads himself inside the condom, with Louis’ tight warmth enveloping him completely.

As Harry finishes, Louis lets himself fall on Harry’s chest, wraps his arms around his neck in a cuddle and purrs softly as Harry wraps his own arms around his waist. There’s a comfortable silence around them as they calm their breathing while cuddling and Harry can’t remember the last time he’s felt this good after having sex. Even with past boyfriends, though fucking them was objectively good, it all pales in comparison against Louis. Having him in his arms, breathing softly and warming his softening cock was better than anything in the world and Harry could only hope whatever happened tonight isn’t just a one time thing.

His hand rubs gently against Louis’ back, smoothing over the soft skin as he glances down at the man resting in his arms. 

“I can feel you staring at me.” Louis mutters against his chest.

“Well, yeah. I'm happy,” Harry admits, “and you're pretty.”

“I know I'm pretty,” He says. Harry chuckles at that.

A beat of silence crosses over them, until Louis brings his head up, as he looks up at him, “I’m happy too.”

And that’s all Harry needs to hear. 

\----

After cuddling for a while longer, up until both of them start to get uncomfortable and in dire need to stretch their legs, Louis settles back to the passenger seat to properly put their clothes back on. In Harry’s case, all he did was slide off and tie the used condom up, tuck himself in his pants and zip them up, and as Louis slips his t-shirt back on, he makes Harry look for his pants that somehow landed behind the back seats. 

Louis also gave no choice but to have Harry sleep over tonight, and he honestly wasn’t even mad about it. It was late enough as it is by now, and the drive home thought not too far, would still be rather tiresome and in all honesty, Harry just wanted to get into bed and cuddle Louis all night long. He’s glad he gets a chance to do so.

He parks his car in a better spot and walks up to Louis’ flat while holding hands with him and trying not to make too much noise in case any of the neighbours would get upset. 

It’s the first time Harry steps inside Louis’ flat and with a quick glance, it’s just as he expected. Pretty decor, fairy lights hung around the living room, house plants laying around in every corner, coats hanging on the back of his couch and dishes yet to be made, and Harry loves it. 

Louis drags him to his room, giggling and getting up on his tippy toes for a kiss that went on longer than a peck and it’s impossible to ignore the butterflies swarming his stomach. They get even crazier when Harry’s down to his boxer briefs and Louis’ wearing Harry’s shirt that goes down to his thighs and nothing else and Harry spots the wood carving he made Louis on his side of the bed.

“You kept it here?”

“Of course!” Louis smiles as he gets into bed, “It reminds me of you, I love it!”

Harry grins, following Louis and fitting himself behind him under the sheets, throwing an arm around his waist and pulling him in impossibly close.

“Remind me to make a wood carving of your ass,” Harry says, “I _definitely_ would keep it for myself, though.”

Louis snorts, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

They giggle and lazily press their lips together as their laughing fit dies down, and they stay tangled up together until they fall asleep, smiles on both of their faces as they venture into their dreams.

\---

The following morning, when Harry wakes up, the first thing he feels is his morning wood pressing against the crevice of Louis’ ass. He’s still groggy and a little disoriented from waking up, so he does what anyone would do and tucks his face in the space between Louis’ head and his shoulder and brings his body closer to him, closer to his crotch. 

He lazily presses his lips against Louis’ warm skin, while smoothing a hand over his tummy, loving how he practically covers it completely, and wondering if he’d feel a bump if he had his cock inside Louis right now. His dick likes that idea, Harry feels it twitch over Louis’ ass and unintentionally pushes his hips forward. 

Louis’ softly breathing in his arms, and Harry isn’t expecting it when Louis arches his back, chasing his cock and sighing when he catches it between his cheeks. Harry doesn’t bother to choke back the deep groan. 

“I know you’re awake,” He mumbles into Louis’ ear, pulling him closer.

“No, I’m not.” He hears, making him chuckle.

“I could wake you up, then.” Harry proposes.

“Hm,” Louis hums, pushing his hips back, “I think you could.”

Harry wastes no time. 

He leans over to properly kiss Louis, slowly and passionately as he drives his hips forward, dryly rutting against Louis’ entrance. The hand splayed on his tummy lowers beneath the t-shirt he’s wearing, fingers feeling Louis’ small cock hardening below his touch. It makes his smirk into the kiss with how easy it is to turn Louis on, and it shouldn’t be this hot how they’ve got an obvious size difference in every sense of the word. 

Harry’s fingers drift lower, fitting between Louis’ things and stroking down his perineum when a thought comes up in his head. 

“Are you sore?” Harry asks, fingers still tenderly rubbing the smooth skin until he reaches where his cock meets his rim.

Louis scoffs, “Have you looked at yourself?”

Harry allows the smile to make its way onto his face before leaning back down and pressing a kiss on the corner of Louis’ lips.

“I’ll make you feel better, babe,” He promises, “Lay on your tummy for me?”

Louis takes his direction without any complaints, and Harry idly thinks it’s probably because he’s still sleep dazed and too lazy to say anything witty. Harry likes this compliant side of him. 

With Louis comfortably laying face down, Harry positions himself between Louis’ spread legs and takes a second to appreciate the sight beneath him. Harry’s t-shirt on him was enough to send him over the moon, but with Louis’ movements, it’s hitched up on the curve before his ass, exposing his perfect cheeks, begging to be bitten and spanked.

Harry makes a mental rain check on that. 

His hands go straight to his ass, where he feels the smooth skin up and kneads him until Louis’ grumbling out complaints against the pillow on how he’s taking too long. If he could, Harry’d stay here just massaging his ass all day, but there’s something he’s been wanting to do for ages and he’s not about to let that chance slip up. 

He spreads Louis’ cheeks, revealing the prettiest hole he’s ever seen, tinted a warm shade of pink and still gaping slightly from last night. Harry wishes he could permanently stain this sight into his brain. 

Louis’ hips move beneath his grip, gently rutting against the sheets below and that won’t do. Harry lowers himself, spreading Louis’ cheeks wider and licks a long stripe from Louis’ perineum up to his crack. Louis’ moans get swallowed up by the pillow under him, and Harry smiles to himself as Louis pushes his hips back in an attempt to chase his tongue where he wants it the most.

Harry gives it to him, gripping his cheeks as his tongue has it’s way around him, swirling his tongue in every direction and lapping up as much of his taste as he could. Louis’ whining out moans above him as Harry traces his tongue over his rim, before smoothing it over and taking longer, leisured laps. 

“ _Harry_ ,” He cries.

“Been wanting to eat your ass ever since I first saw you,” Harry mumbles, before lowering back down again and taking another taste.

“W-wanted this too,” Louis whimpers, “Wanted your tongue on me so bad.”

“How bad, baby?” He asks, indulging himself in Louis’ needs and desires as he circles his tongue around his puckering hole.

“S-so bad,” He cries. Little moans and incoherent words slip out of him as Harry continues, gripping his cheeks tighter as he focuses his tongue right on his hole. Louis makes a particularly loud cry as Harry pushes his tongue inside his hole, wiggling it and holding Louis down as he pushes his ass back against Harry’s face. 

“ _Please_ ,” Louis whimpers, “S-so close.”

By now, Harry’s jaw starts to ache, but he easily ignores it in favor of pushing Louis closer to the edge. His noises keep getting louder and it’s harder to keep him in place as Harry swirls his tongue around his sweet little hole.

“ _Agh_ , Harry!” Louis squirms beneath him. 

Harry squeezes his cheeks tighter and thrusts his tongue back inside, tasting him and stuffing as much as he can until Louis suddenly lets out a cry and stills his hips as he gets pushed to orgasm, making a mess on the sheets he’s lying on and most likely, his tummy. 

Gently, Harry softenes his grip on Louis’ cheeks and pulls his tongue out as Louis recovers from coming completely untouched, yet he still keeps his tongue on him, steadily licking until Louis’ whining from being way too oversensitive. 

He sits himself back up on his knees, hands softly kneading Louis’ cheeks and he notices faint marks on his skin due to Harry’s stubble. It’s hot, and maybe keeping a stubble isn’t that bad of an idea after all. 

Somehow, Louis’ shirt got crumpled up below his pits and as Harry’s appreciating his naked backside, he’s reminded of his own cock, standing fully hard and straining to be touched. Eating Louis out was incredibly hot and one of the best experiences Harry’s had in bed. Even just the noises coming from Louis were enough to make Harry’s girth thicken up, and as he keeps one hand on Louis’ cheek to spread it and give him a full view of that pretty hole, his other wraps around his dick, tugging on it to reach his own release.

“You’re so pretty, Lou,” Harry groans, “So perfect for me.”

He’s not too far off from jizzing. He feels his lower abdomen heat up and balls start to tighten as he rubs his thumb against his cock’s slit and watches as Louis arches his back as if he were presenting himself to him.

It’s a sight that’s entirely way too hot and it only takes a few more tugs until Harry’s jizzing all over his used hole, moaning as he empties himself out. Harry’s shoulders rise and fall as he regulates his breathing, slowly stroking himself til he’s well and truly done. 

There’s jizz all over Louis’ hole, and some even on his lower back, and Harry feels an urge to do something about it, so in his post-orgasm haze, he grips the base of his cock and pushes his own seed inside Louis, where it belongs. His tip hardly grazes his hole, he rubs it against Louis’ entrance and it’s enough to push most inside. What didn’t make it, Harry slumped back on his knees to push the remaining inside with his index finger, keeping it tucked inside Louis for a second longer just to make sure it stays inside. 

“I think nothing is slipping out now, Harry.” Louis mentions from above him. Harry isn’t too sure, he wishes he could plug Louis up and keep his jizz inside him forever. Against his own selfish needs, Harry takes his finger out and watches as a little dribbles out, and it’s something he wouldn’t mind watching again.

Louis turns over to his side as Harry settles beside him and makes grabby hands for a cuddle. Harry smiles and immediately gives in, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist and turning on his back so Louis would rest on his chest. 

“Wanted to suck you off,” Louis mumbles quietly to his chest.  
  
“Next time, baby,” Harry whispers back, before lowering his head to drop a kiss at the top of Louis’ head. They lay there comfortably, holding each other and Harry’s almost certain Louis’ about to fall asleep, but there’s something he’s been meaning to ask and he can’t help himself any longer.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry asks, interrupting the comfortable silence settled between them, “Can I take you out on a date?”

“As long as it's not in your bar,” Louis mumbles into his chest, “I’m all yours.”

Harry grins, pulling Louis closer to him, “Wouldn't dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this! Don't forget to leave kudos and a nice comment if you've enjoyed this! Find me on tumblr and twitter on @/youreyesonlarry for more updates on new fics, drawings and bl content! :)


End file.
